


Metamorphosis

by LeviSqueaks



Series: The Great Sam Winchester Bingo Card Challenge [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholism, Anxiety, Caretaking, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Dean always takes care of Sam, Depression, Dysphoria, FTM Trans, Gen, Hormone therapy, It will get longer and more involved, It's not wincest but there is a lot of touching and could be squick adjacent if it's not your thing, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kids with guns, M/M, Packing, Platonic assistance with self-care/grooming, Platonic sibling intimacy, Protective Dean Winchester, Self-Harm, Shibari, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Sam Winchester, Trans!Sam, Weechesters, Writing this as therapy, binding, ftm character, pre-t Trans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/pseuds/LeviSqueaks
Summary: The first things that Dean remembers about his life started with Sam. He's always been there for his brother. But things haven't always been easy for them, and at times, Dean felt like he was drowning to keep Sammy afloat. Sam has a secret that Dean will protect at all costs, but what does this mean for their lives?Sam was born a girl but that didn't mean he was born right. Follow Sam's journey (primarily) through Dean's eyes as he shifts and grows into himself.The story is essentially self-therapy. Please read the tags. It will be updated sporadically as I'm able to push myself to finish new bits. It's going to be emotional, but a lot of it is going to be through the lens of the person helping, aka Dean. Therefore... there will be self-harm and suicide attempts but a lot of it is going to be seen and recovered through the eyes of Dean taking care of Sam. I will tag at the beginning of the chapter if it will switch to Sam's POV. There will be a few chapters that are. Starts pre/at the Pilot and skips forward from there.
Series: The Great Sam Winchester Bingo Card Challenge [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/914565
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Dean and Sam Bingo, Sam Winchester Bingo





	1. In the Beginning

Dean 4  
Sammy 1

Chapter 1: 

Dean didn’t really remember much about his life before the fire. Oh he said he did, when people asked him now. But it was mostly abstract and fuzzy, like the few memories he had of their mom. The few things that Dean did remember vividly were all memories that included Sam. 

His mom on the couch with a pair of headphones to her belly. Dean lying with his parents on the hood of the Impala and feeling the baby kick as his parents told him that he was going to have a little sister. John rocking him, smelling of leather and aftershave as he promised Dean that he was going to be an awesome big brother. That maybe he could have a brother after his sister. Dad dodged as Momma threw a shoe at him while he laughed. 

He remembered being in the hospital when Sammy was born. Remember his Dad lifting him up to lay beside Momma on the bed, having to be careful because she was holding the little pink bundle close. He got close and peeked in and it was then that Dean fell in love. He remembered the first time that his Momma put Sammy into his arms. She was heavy and he had to be careful not to squish her too close. But she opened big blue eyes to stare up at him and yawned. 

“She’s mine,” Dean informed his parents quietly after he and Sammy spent time evaluating each other. He grinned then, barely noting his mom’s sniffle as he bent down to kiss Sammy on the forehead. “Sleep little Sammy, Deanie’s got you.”

Sammy being born was the happiest moment of Dean’s short life and he spent all his time helping his mom take care of her. His dad would come home and have to coax Sammy out of Dean’s arms, joking with Momma that he felt more like a grandpa to Sammy than her actual Dad. 

But it all changed with the fire. Or… It didn’t but it should have. Dean vaguely remembers waking up to his mom screaming. He remembers rushing to make sure Sammy was okay. He remembers heat. Blistering, horrible, burnt like “chicken nuggets left in the oven for too long” heat. He remembers his Dad shoving Sammy into his arms and being told to run outside. He slid down the stairs on his butt so he didn’t drop her. 

“It’s okay Sammy, It’s okay… Daddy is gonna help. It’s okay, Sammy, don't cry.” It wasn’t okay. None of it was okay. Dad had taken Sammy out of his arms when he came downstairs and held her close, away from Dean. He didn’t even give her back to Dean when the ambulance came and he was forced to talk to the fireman and wear a funny clear mask over his face. He didn’t give Sammy back when they drove to a hotel either.  
Or when he checked in.

Or when they got to the room. 

Dean didn’t get Sammy back until they were all snuggled in the same bed, and Dad pulled his arms away to cover his face and cry. That’s when Dean pulled Sammy into his arms and curled around her, kissing her chubby cheek, inhaling the scent of baby powder and drifted off to sleep. He was going to take care of her.


	2. Princes and Princesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caterpillars are cold worms. Princesses are Princes.

Dean 7  
Sammy 3

Chapter 2

After the fire, Dean learned how to be the best big brother. He learned that Sammy didn’t like her formula too warm, and that he had to take a sip (it tasted really gross) to make sure it wasn’t hot before he gave her the bottle. He learned that he should give her cheerios before he got his own food or she would try to reach over and grab his peanut butter sandwich, and Dad said she was too little for peanut butter. He learned that she had bad balance and had to sit on a towel in the bathtub or she might fall over and she didn’t like to get her hair wet. 

Once he learned the rules, and taught them to his Dad, things got a little easier. His dad was good at taking care of them at first, but then he started drinking the funny smelling drink in the big glass bottle which made him cry and talk angrily at Dean and Sammy. He always called her Samantha then, and it made Dean scowl. When he was like that, Dean had to make food for them because Dad would break the dishes. 

Dean learns to read by reading Sammy stories, and life goes on as they grow and get better. Dean learns how to change Sammy when she’s wet, He learns how to get her food she’ll eat. Sammy learns to talk and they play games while Sammy asks a million questions. Dean always answers them though, because Sammy lights up when he can explain how something works. 

Life had gotten harder again when Dean had started school the next year. He hated school, hated having to leave in the morning when Sammy would pout. Hated how much he worried about her, about how she was. 

Today had been one of those days. A bad day. Dad had been drinking since breakfast, pouring some of the smelly stuff into his coffee. He had gotten mad at Sammy’s questions and had yelled at Dean to take her to the park. So Dean bundled her up in her purple jacket and stuffed newspaper into his old shoes for her because hers were too small, and took her by the hand to walk down to the park. 

Dean may have only been 8, but Sammy was his world and Dean spent all his time making sure that Sammy got what she wanted. He let her guide him to the swings, smiling when she lifted her arms to be picked up and put on. “Swing Dee?” 

“Yeah Princess we can swing,” Dean promised. He blinked when Sam scowled suddenly but he settled her and gave her a little push and the frown slipped away. Dean breathed out softly and gave her gentle pushes, never enough to make her go high but enough to make her grin widely at him in response. Apparently whatever he had said had been forgiven because they spent the next hour toddling around between the swings, the slide, and the merry-go-round. Sammy had asked him about why the sun was yellow and about the bug they had found. Dean only kind of knew about caterpillars but he could make stuff up pretty well so he just told Sammy about worms that got really cold when they did special dirt eating stuff so God gave them fuzzy sweaters to keep them warm. Sammy giggled and crouched down next to Dean and reached out a chubby finger to pet the caterpillar that Dean held before he put it back on the leaf. 

Getting Sammy home was harder than getting her to the park. “I hungry Dee,” Sammy whined as Dean pulled her home. He didn’t see Dad’s car so he sighed and squeezed her hand as he led her inside. 

“Come on Sammy, I’ll make you spaghetti-o’s.” He promised her as he took off her coat and shut and locked the door behind them. It was almost time for bed and he fisted his eyes as he went to the fridge to pull out the bowl from yesterday to warm up. Food went fast, but Sammy was still messy and she was covered in sauce. Dean groaned because he was sleepy too and he didn’t want to take forever so he just pulled Sammy into the bathroom and ran the water. “We’re gonna take a bath together,” he told her as he stripped her out of her clothes and poked her chubby tummy to make her giggle. He tipped in a little of the baby shampoo to make bubbles for her and helped her into the tub as he stripped down to climb in after her. “Come on princess, time to get clean.” He said as he put soap on one of the washcloths and wiped her down. 

Sammy frowned up at him again, scowl firm on her face as he carefully poured water over her water, blonde curls straightening and darkening. Dean cocked his head. “What’s wrong Sammy?” 

“I not a princess, Dee,” Sammy pouted at him angrily.   
Dean grinned at her and washed up her legs and then poured shampoo into her hair and lathered it up. “Sure you are, you’re my little sister, Princess Sammy-Sam.” 

Sammy slapped her hands down into the water angrily and scowled up at him. “Not! I not a princess, Dee. I a prince.” 

Dean focused on washing her hair and rinsed it out. “Well you can’t be a Prince, Sammy… boys are princes and girls are princesses.” He explained gently to Sammy before starting to wash himself down as quickly as possible. 

Sam parted her hair and looked up at him, so confused and adorable and Dean smiled as he washed himself and rinsed off. “What?” 

Sam squirmed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I is a boy,” she said firmly. 

Dean blinked and stared down at her. She was little and she didn’t have Momma around and Dad was always too sad to teach her things. He bit his lip and cocked his head to stare at her. “Sammy, you’re a girl.” He said carefully but she shook her head adamantly at him. 

“I’s a boy like you, Dee.” She seemed so insistent that he backed down. 

“Okay Sammy,” Dean agreed softly and he rinsed them off and pulled the plug. “You can be whatever you want to be. Now it’s time for bed.” 

Sammy beamed up that wide grin he loved so much and he dried her off before wrapping the towel around his waist and dragging her into the bedroom. He grabbed her pajamas and wrestled her into them before tucking her in. “Go to sleep, Sammy,” he said gently as he tucked a damp curl behind her ear. “Go to sleep, little Prince.”


	3. Like Mr. Rogers told us.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy wants nothing more than to be like his big brother, Dean. Dean is going to make sure that happens. Above all, Dean will do whatever it takes to protect Sammy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING. WARNING. WARNING. This chapter features physical assault of minors, child abuse, a kid holding a gun, and verbal abuse. This chapter features child neglect, the mental effects of child neglect, and transphobia to the extreme. This chapter is not for the faint of heart but the beginning is really important for Sam and Dean.

Chapter 3:   
Dean: 8  
Sammy: 4

Dean thought that it would just be a phase. Like the three days that Sammy asked Dean to call her Princess Peach because they got to go to the arcade and she had seen a Mario brothers video game that Dean played a demo of. But it wasn’t. Dean had talked with Sammy. Was gentle when he told her that they could never ever call her a boy in front of Dad. Dad wouldn’t understand. He didn’t like when things were hard or different. When they were, like when Sammy’s teeth came in or when Dean got sick and threw up, he yelled a lot and drank his smelly stuff that made him mean and sad. So when Sammy kept insisting that he was a boy, Dean sat down in front of Sammy and turned off the TV. “Sammy I need you to talk with me like a grown-up boy, can you do that?” 

Sammy’s face had lit up in response to being called a boy, like it always did, and nodded so hard that her… his… curls bounced all around his head. Dean was getting better at making his brain think that Sammy was a boy. It helped him remember to call Sammy that, though he usually stuck with Sammy so that he didn’t mess it up. Sometimes he forgot and her sad eyes and pouts always made him apologize as fast as he could. “Sammy, you know how you told me you’re a boy?” 

Sam nodded up at him, feet tapping together as he swung them. “Yes De.” 

“Good, I know this is important to you Sammy, but we can’t tell Dad. He’ll get real mad and upset and we should make sure we’re keeping Dad happy, right?” Sammy nodded solemnly but his face scrunched up in confusion. Dean didn’t blame him. 

“Why Daddy be sad if I a boy?” 

Dean was so mad he had to answer that but he made sure not to yell. It was important that Sammy remembered this. “Cause he’s still sad and when you’re sad sometimes you get mad instead.” Dean tried to explain. “Like Mr. Rogers said on the TV, remember?” 

Sammy frowned in concentration and then nodded and fidgeted in place, giving Dean those big sad eyes that always made Dean want to give him a hug and a cookie. “So… when Dad’s around, we have to keep calling you a girl, and we have to say she and her. It doesn’t mean that you aren’t a boy, it’s just pretend for Dad. Okay?” 

Sam huffed and pouted then slid off the couch and walked over to hug Dean around the neck, burying his face in Dean’s neck and sniffling. 

Dean hugged Sammy tightly, dragging him to sit in his lap and rocked him. “I know baby boy, but we gotta do it. Only when he’s home.” He promised. 

Sometimes, Dean felt like he was a better Daddy to Sammy than their Dad was. Sometimes, he wished that they could run away and go live with a mommy and daddy who loved them and took care of them. Dean wished they had their own home and could just be a family again. But he didn’t always get that. 

“De?” Sammy’s voice came quiet and muffled after a long cuddle on the floor. 

“Yeah baby boy?” Dean asked softly in reply. “I want a spiderman shirt like you have and jeans.” Sammy’s voice was small and sad, like he had been trying not to ask but wanted them more than anything. Like when he was hungry and Dean gave him some of his dinner cause there was no more left. It was that guilty sorry asking voice that made Dean’s tummy tight with pain. 

“Well… we can try to get one for you, next time we go to the store.” Dean offered. 

\--

The next time they went to Walmart, Dean had carefully snuck away from John, peeking over at the t-shirts and snatching one of the spiderman ones in Sammy’s size. He jumped when someone talked on the other side of the rack and quickly rolled it up and shoved it down his pants. He was glad that Sammy was so small that no one would really notice. 

He quickly snatched a pair of regular blue jeans that only had flowers on the belt they could take off that came from the girls section and quickly made his way back to his dad. John was pushing the cart down the aisle and frowned when Dean reappeared by his side, Sammy brightening as he looked down at her from the cart’s seat. 

She had on a dress she had scowled about earlier. But her eyes lit up now at the sight of the jeans in Dean’s hand. He squared his shoulders and held them up to his dad. Dean asked John quietly if they could get them for when Sammy wanted to go to the park. Dean held his breath but it was a good day, so Dad just said yes and threw them into the basket. 

Going through checkout had been scary, and Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest hard like really loud drums. Once they got outside, Dean felt like his legs were turning to jelly. He was so glad he hadn’t been caught. Still, he carefully took Sammy from Dad and buckled him into the backseat with a kiss to his curls, obliging Sammy when he reached up for Dean’s hat and pulled it over his head. Dean helped Dad unload the groceries into the trunk, careful of the paint then noticed the floor board was wobbly. “Dad why is--” 

“Shut up and get in the car, Dean,” was the only reply that came. 

Dean did as ordered, buckling himself up next to Sammy as Dad got into the car and glanced back at them before taking off. Dad put music on as soon as Sammy started asking Dean about the dog in the car that passed them. Dean scooted closer to talk quietly with Sammy about the dog, trying not to be too loud, but Dad just sighed and turned the music up higher, muttering under his breath. Dean squeezed Sammy’s hand and gently kissed his cheek before sitting upright again, squeezing his hand so he wouldn’t pout too hard. Dad hated when Sammy pouted. 

When they got home, Dean told Sammy to take a bag with bread inside and put it on the counter as he grabbed three to carry in. He was careful not to break the eggs as he put them on the table and Dad followed with a duffle bag and the last of the groceries. “Dean, I’m going to be out for the night, probably won’t get back until late. Lock the door when I leave, and don’t answer the door for anyone, even me. I’ve got a key,” John said firmly. “Take care of Sammy, feed her and give her a bath.” He said as he plopped the duffle next to the groceries. 

Dean looked inside the open bag and felt his stomach twist up when he saw two guns in it. He swallowed carefully, “yes Sir,” he agreed softly as he turned to put the eggs in the fridge and the big gallon of milk. It was heavy and he had to use his leg to keep the door open as he pulled the almost empty bottle out of the fridge to put the new one behind it. 

Little things like the milk made his whole body feel like it was burning with fire from the inside out. This wasn’t supposed to be his job, He wasn’t supposed to have to be Sammy’s basically daddy, he wasn’t supposed to cook food for them and give Sammy baths and be responsible. His other friends at school didn’t do any of that. Their moms and dads still made their lunches and tucked them in and read them stories. 

But Dean didn’t always get what he wanted. What he did get that he wanted, more than anything, was to make Sammy happen. Cause Sammy was his. His stomach twisted up again and he turned to put away some spaghetti-o’s as Dad scooped Sammy up to hug her and kiss her cheek, tossing Dean’s hat aside and petting her hair. “Be a good girl for Dean, sweetie.” 

Sam insisted that he was always good for Dean and Dad laughed and put Sammy down before grabbing his bag to shoulder. Dean felt better when it was out of Sammy’s reach. “Remember what I told you,” Dad said gruffly to Dean and then left with a small slam of the door. 

There was that part of Dean that was sad he didn’t get the same hug and squeeze and kiss from Dad. He couldn’t remember the last time he did. But he was also mad that Dad touched Sammy while calling him a little girl. Mad for Sammy who didn’t really understand why he had to pretend for Dad. 

“Hey Sammy-Sam, why don’t you go grab my legos and you can play with them while I make us dinner. Do you want chicken and stars soup and a cheese sandwich or spaghetti-o’s?” 

Sam lit up and toddled over to squeeze Dean hard around the middle before staring up with his pretty brown eyes, “Sketti please, Dean?” 

“Sure squirt. Play with the legos on the towel like I showed you so we don’t lose any pieces,” Dean reminded as Sammy raced to grab them out of the bottom drawer of the dresser. 

Dean opened the can and dumped the spaghetti-o’s in the pot stirring them until they were bubbly and making them a cheese sandwich to split, carefully cutting it into 4 squares with no crusts (because Sammy didn’t like them). 

He put everything up but noticed Sam glancing up at him every couple of seconds and squirming. Dean tried to hide a smile as he turned the stove off and put his hands on his hips as he turned. “What’s up Sammy-sam?” 

“De, did you get me a spiderman shirt?” Sammy was quiet as he asked and fidgeted in place before staring up at Dean hopefully. 

Dean had nearly forgotten so he just grinned and dragged it out from where he had hidden it in his pants and displayed it for Sam. It wasn’t the exact same one as Dean’s, but it was close enough and it was fresh and new with the picture still all the way there and not cracked. Sam squealed and pushed up to run over and touch it. “Can I wear my boy clothes now, Dean?” Sammy was looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes and Dean could never say no to those eyes. 

“Uh yeah Sammy lemme just…” he reached into the bag and pulled out the jeans, carefully pulling the belt free so that they were plain and handing them over to him. “Go on, I’m gonna lock the door and get dinner at the table. Grab a towel so you can protect your clothes!” He called after Sammy as he raced away with his outfit. He came back later, the clothes on. 

Sammy had a triumphant grin that stretched wide across chubby cheeks and came to hug Dean tightly. “I couldn’t button.” He said and pointed down. Dean carefully buttoned and zipped Sammy’s jeans then grabbed his hair and pulled all of the curls up and twirled them before grabbing his baseball hat and tugging it carefully over his head.

Dean stepped back and then grinned. “There you are,” he said simply to his little brother. Sam’s eyes went wide and he raced over to the bed and stood on it to try and see himself in the mirror. Dean watched him with a little smile on his face, glad to see the way that Sammy’s face was lit up in glee. 

Dean pulled Sammy down and kissed his cheek and then dragged him over to eat, tucking a towel into his new shirt so it wouldn’t get dirty. They watched Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood reruns as Sammy carefully ate his sandwich and spaghetti-o’s. 

They were almost done when there was a sound of a key unlocking the door, freezing Dean dead in his chair, horror freezing him as he surveyed the legos on the floor and Sammy in his boy clothes. 

Before he could do anything at all to save this, John walks through the door, body swaying slightly in that way that tells Dean he’s been drinking. John’s scowling face only turns angrier when he looked over at them. Dean freezes, his heart hammering in his throat, and he watches his dad drop that bag on the bed. “What the hell is this mess, Dean?” Dad demands as he motions to the kitchen and the legos. 

Shit. This was going to be a bad night. Sammy was shrinking into himself looking scared. Dean had to protect Sammy, “sorry Sir, I was just letting Sammy play with them while I cooked dinner. We’ll clean up,” he promised. He hoped that would calm his dad down. 

John swayed a little and then lit on Sammy and his eyes narrowed. “Why the hell does she have your hat on like that?”  
Dean swallowed, his body tight and trembling and he felt like he was going to cry, “I didn’t want her t--to get sauce in her hair,” he stammered. 

Dad moved forward and Dean quickly got up so he could intercept but Dad narrowed his eyes and grabbed Sammy, lifting her out of her chair. Sammy whined and squirmed. “Daddy, oww!” 

Dean felt like he had ice in his arms and legs, his face was hot and his feet felt like they weighed 80 pounds. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Dad grabbed the towel and ripped it away. “What’s this? Where did you get this shirt?” He demanded angrily. “Why the hell is she dressed like this, Dean?” 

“She… just wanted a spiderman shirt. It’s nothing Dad.” 

Sammy was crying now as Dad shook her. “Shut up Samantha! Why are you dressed like a boy? That’s bad! Little girls don’t dress up in superhero shirts!” 

Dad was yelling and Sammy was crying. Dean felt like he was going to throw up. He didn’t know how to make it stop. “Dad…” 

“It’s bad! You’re bad for dressing like that, Samantha.” Dad yelled. 

“I not bad! I a boy! Not a girl!” Sam yelled back and Dean felt like his body was going to collapse under a giant weight. He saw his Dad’s eyes go wide. Saw how mad he was. He shook Sammy again. 

“DAD STOP!” Dean demanded but Dad didn’t listen. 

Dad shoved Sammy to his chest and yanked down her pants and spanked her hard across the bottom three times “You.” smack. “Are not.” smack. “A BOY.” smack. Dean raced over to try and grab his dad’s hand, to stop this. Sammy was wailing at the top of his lungs as Dean demanded his dad stop. 

Dad whirled and backhanded Dean, making him fall behind his dad over the edge of the bed, his face red hot and aching and his eye throbbing with pain. He couldn’t catch his breath and his head was swimming. 

Then he heard it. The thump. 

Dean turned and saw Sammy screaming in the corner where Dad had dropped or thrown her. Dean hadn’t seen it but it didn’t matter. Dad was standing over her and dragging his belt through his loops. 

Dean didn’t know how he got there. Didn’t remember reaching in the bag, didn’t remember moving, didn’t remember pointing it. “DAD.” He yelled and his dad whirled around before freezing, staring down the barrel of the gun. “Sammy, go in the bathroom.” Dean’s tone was firm, but gentle and she crawled in and closed the door behind her. 

“Dean, put the gun down.” 

“No. You go away. You go somewhere else. You hurt Sammy.” Dean said, his lip trembling. “You hurt him!” he gasped again, eyes burning with hatred. 

“Dean!” 

“If you ever hurt him like that again, I’ll shoot you,” Dean promised him softly. “Now go away.” Dean didn’t know what he would do to take care of Sammy, he didn’t know who he could turn to for help. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do but he couldn’t let dad hurt Sammy again. He had to protect Sammy. 

Dad stared at him before grabbing the duffle bag and going to the kitchen to get the canister of salt before slamming out of the hotel room again. 

Dean panted and put the gun down with trembling hands in the side table before bringing them up to cover his face. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air and he gasped several times before turning to the bathroom. He had to get Sam, had to make sure his little brother was okay. 

“Sammy, baby boy open the door. Dad’s gone.” Dean begged as he waited. Sammy didn’t answer for a minute then opened it and threw himself into Dean’s arms. Dean caught him and kissed his hair and his cheek, lifting him up with a grunt and hugging him close. “It’s okay. It’s okay… I’m here. It’s okay.” 

Dean held Sammy close while he cried, rocking him and burying his face in Sammy’s hair to hide his own tears. His eye was throbbing and when he tilted his head he felt like he would fall over. Dean slid to the floor and wrapped Sam in his arms, watching the door warily. 

He had to protect Sammy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. It's a big part of what will shape Sammy and Dean's journey. Some of the following chapters will start to have Sammy's POV once he gets old enough.


	4. I don't see why it has to change now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's been helping Sammy out with baths since he was little enough he'd fall over. Dean doesn't see why now has to be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: self-harm (discovery of cuts, not active), body dysphoria, gen bathing, hurt/comfort.

Chapter 4  
Dean: 17  
Sammy: 13

Dean had noticed a lot of things about Sam that just didn’t always click. For one, he was the most fastidious teenage boy that ever existed. Dean kind of thought it was funny how religiously Sammy took showers. He insisted it was because he didn’t want to smell like a ripe baboon like Dean. But he sure liked stealing Dean’s body wash. Sam may have been snoozing on his school books (because of course the little turd had to be a straight-A student in every crappy school they went to) but he would still drag himself in to shower every night before passing out in bed. 

Lately though, Sam hadn’t been keeping up with it. Dean had noticed about a week ago when Sam had come out of the bathroom looking kinda pale and dragged a hoodie on. Dean hadn’t really paid him any mind, but the hoodie had become a staple to an even greater extent than usual. And it was hot in the middle of Arkansas in June. So when Sam started to get a bit ripe, when his hair became lank and his skin oily, Dean cracked. Dean had told him to go shower because he smelled like someone’s ass crack on the 4th of July. 

Sam had glared at him and curled up tighter on the bed, ignoring him. Dean turned on the tv and waited it out, glancing over at Sammy to see if he was gonna get a move on. But Sammy still didn’t move. “Come on, little Bro. As someone who has to live with you and worries about your social standing at school… please go take a shower.” Sammy sighed heavily behind him but after several long moments, finally disappeared into the bathroom. It took a few minutes until the water was turned on, but the sound had Dean relaxing. He mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done. 

But eventually, something twinged in his mind. The water had been running for close to 20 minutes but Dean couldn’t really hear anything that sounded like a shower. He frowned and turned off the TV before moving closer and pressing close to the door. The water was running but it didn’t have that normal pattern of hitting someone’s skin and falling. There were no variations in the pounding drone of water against tile. “Sammy?” he called and knocked on the door. 

“Go away, Dean,” came the muffled response. Yeah, that wasn’t coming from the shower. 

“Come on Baby Bro, let me in,” he said softly. There was that achingly long pause, the one that said Sam was warring with himself, with Dean, against help. Dean wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was. He knew Sammy better than the dumb kiddo knew himself. So Dean’s danger sense was going off and he wanted to know why. “Sammy? Come on,” he begged softly. 

The lock popped and Sam stood there, fully dressed while the shower ran behind him. There were tear tracks over his face and the sight near damn broke Dean’s heart. “Aww come on, Sammy,” he said softly as he pressed in and turned the shower off. He eyed his little brother’s miserable face and drew him close to press a kiss to his hair. Yeesh, he really did stink too. It didn’t matter though, Sammy needed him and Dean was always going to take care of Sammy. He closed the door behind them and dragged the seat down on the toilet before tugging his little bro into his lap. 

Sam went willingly and buried his face in Dean’s shoulder, allowing his big brother to wrap strong arms around him. Dean had always been bigger than Sam but with Sam still a bit away from puberty and Dean having been going strong for a couple years he had nearly 80 lbs and a foot on his little brother so this felt as natural as anything else in the world. 

“Talk to me, Sammy. What’s going on? You’re usually like the cleanest person in the state, what’s got you so freaked out and smelly, huh?” Sam squirmed on his lap and avoided his eyes. Dean was fine with that though. He could be patient for his little brother to open up. “You know you can tell me anything, Sammy. You know I’m always here for you, right?” 

“Yeah, I know De.” 

Dean nodded, “right, so you know no matter what the problem is, I’m here for you and I’ve got your back.” The nod he received in reply was enough to lighten his mood. Okay so he knew he was going to be able to help Sam. He waited a solid minute and a half through Sam’s squirming before he began to rub Sam’s back. “So what’s going on?” 

Sam shrugged and man if that wasn’t the most irritating lack of answering in the world. He waited it out, making sure not to sigh angrily or something and hurt Sam’s feelings. He knew something big was up or it wouldn’t have disrupted his little brother’s life the way it had. He kept up the back rubs and wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist. 

He was so tiny and it jarred Dean, reminding him about that part of Sam they didn’t ever talk about. Thinking about how old Sam was and everything else, he wondered suddenly what could have gone wrong enough to turn Sam into such a basket case. “Come on, Sammy,” he coaxed gently as he leaned forward to kiss the younger boy’s lank hair, “I know something is eating at you. It’s killing me to see you like this.” 

Sam sighed and curled up a little tighter, tears falling down his face again. “I… can’t.” 

Dean waited for a minute but when nothing else came, shifted to hold Sammy tighter, “can’t what, Baby boy?” He made sure his tone was deliberately gentle and the old nickname must have done something to cut through to Sam because his younger brother curled closer. Dean knew he was close so he just waited again. 

“I can’t shower,” Sam managed after a couple long moments of thick, sad quiet. Dean felt his breath leave him slowly and he started rubbing Sammy’s back again. Okay, he just… needed to get Sammy to tell him why. 

Dean waited a few more moments and then kissed Sam’s hair again. It really was gross and he tried not to think about it, “why not, Sammy?” He was careful not to let the frustration he was feeling creep into his voice. He hated that Sam was so messed up by whatever was going on in his head that he couldn’t even tell Dean what was going on. 

Sam bit his lip and squirmed again before letting his eyes fall. Dean could see new tear tracks and it broke his heart a bit in response. Damn but why did it always have to be so hard for Sam. He squeezed Sam around the middle and reached with his other hand to tilt Sammy’s chin up so that those pretty hazel eyes could meet his own. “Why can’t you shower, Sammy?” 

Sam sniffled, his face crumbling and dammit Dean hated to see him cry. He felt panic set in, “hey… shhhh it’s alright, Sammy. I’ve got you. It’s all fine, right? Just us. What’s going on? Why can’t you shower? Talk to me, kiddo.” 

Sammy sobbed and then threw himself forward to bury his face in Dean’s shoulder and cry. Dean felt alarm well up in his limbs as he dragged Sammy to straddle his lap so he could hold him close tighter, “hey hey hey, it’s alright Sam. It’s alright, Baby boy. I’ve got you. Shhh it’ll be alright, Sammy.” 

Sam clung tighter to Dean and didn’t let up on the pressure around his older brother’s neck as he had a long cry. Finally though, he broke down enough to tell Dean what the hell was the matter. When he spoke, Dean felt his heart shatter, “I can’t look at them.” 

Dean started to get an idea of what was happening but he didn’t want to assume, “can’t look at what, Sammy?” he asked gently as he rubbed his little brother’s back. He was dreading the answer. He knew, intellectually, that Sammy had been born female. But he had been his kid brother for so long that Dean honestly sometimes forgot. But Sammy was starting to grow up, and that was spelling dread for everyone. 

“My…” Sam pulled back and gestured miserably to his chest, confirming what Dean had suddenly understood. “I can’t… it makes me want to throw up and… and…” He shuddered, fresh tears spilling down his face and Dean leaned forward to kiss Sam’s cheek. “Okay little brother,” he soothed softly as he tugged the curtain closed and then reached in to turn the shower back on. 

Sam’s face scrunched up and he stared at Dean, hurt and wariness swimming in his eyes. Dean ignored it for a moment and reached to tug his own t-shirt up and over his head and toss it. “Come on then.” He said softly and hugged Sammy before lifting him to stand up and following. 

“Dean… what are you doing?” Sammy’s voice was soft and confused and Dean flashed his little brother a short grin, trying to soothe down the worry and hurt.

“Well whaddya think I’m doing, Sammy? I’ve been giving you baths since you were little enough to fall over. Hell I gave you a bath where you were so little you just pooped a million and a half raisins in the tub. Seems to me you need a bath and are having trouble so I don’t see why that’s gotta change now.” Dean kept his tone easy and cavalier as he undid his pants and shoved them down, leaving him in boxer briefs. He wasn’t gonna go full moon, that seemed a little weird if they were both naked. But he didn’t mind helping out if Sammy was having that much trouble, “come on, Stinky. Get that hoodie off so we can wash it.” 

Sam hesitated and Dean turned to face Sam and then flicked his hoodie strings. He was still just a little chubby in his cheeks and it was adorable. “You don’t gotta look, you just focus on me, Kiddo,” he encouraged softly, “hell you can close your eyes if you need to, Squirt you know I’ve got you.” 

Sam sniffled but nodded and did just that. His eyes fluttered shut and scrunched up as Dean quickly tugged the hoodie up and off of his little brother then reached down to undo his Jeans and shove them and his underwear down. Before hooking the white socks and dragging them off as Sam’s hands quickly reached down to brace on Dean’s shoulders.

Sam was skinny as a rail but Dean could see what he meant as he carefully stepped into the shower and tugged Sam with him, “come on squirt, step over the tub. Left first… good... now the right,” he tugged the curtain closed after them and turned them carefully, steadying Sam so that he was under the spray. 

Sam gasped and flinched a little before melting in the hot water. The image of Sam relaxing made Dean smile. “Yeah there ya go… see I knew you had to be missing this, you’re like a fish,” he joked as he grabbed the washcloth and his own body wash. He let his eyes wander over his little brother’s body and felt a tug of sympathy because yeah… those were totally the beginning swells of breasts. 

Sammy would have made a gangly girl, but with the swell of breasts and the little bit of softness at his hips… it was time to do some research on what he could do to hide it. Dean vowed to himself to do that as soon as he got Sammy put to bed. “De?” his little brother asked softly, dragging Dean out of his own thoughts. 

“Yeah sorry Sammy, just thinking.” Dean promised as he grabbed Sam’s right arm to start washing it down. He paused, horrified, when he realized what he had missed earlier. He choked softly and dragged Sam’s arm a little closer, out of the spray, “oh… Sammy…” 

Sam’s eyes snapped open to meet Dean’s gaze and then they wandered to his arm before a deep blush covered his cheeks. Dean felt like he couldn’t get enough air and he stared at the cuts lining Sam’s forearm. “Sammy… kiddo why?” he asked the question softly, horror filling his stomach. “Why didn’t you--?” he couldn’t get the words out, his body was twisting itself with guilt and anger for not having realized. 

Sam bit his lip and closed his eyes again, ducking his head so he didn’t have to look Dean in the eye. “I just…” 

“Kiddo… you gotta tell me if it ever gets that bad again. You know I’ve got your back little brother. I’m not gonna be mad at you, I just need you to let me help you. Let me help you, okay Sammy?” He begged softly. Sam sniffled and nodded in response, eyes still closed. Dean carefully washed his arm, careful not to break open the scabs and hurt him. His heart ached to see them. “I’m gonna clean them and bandage them after your shower, Sammy,” he said it quietly as he began to wash Sam’s armpit and then moved to the other arm, sad to see even more slices there. One was a little red and he scrubbed at it a bit before moving to clean the rest of Sammy’s arm. 

He was careful and methodical, scrubbing Sammy down. He did his shoulders and neck, getting behind his ears and then up the nape of his neck before turning Sam to scrub down his back firmly. Sam arched into it like a drowned kitten and it made Dean smile. He scrubbed at his ribs, smirking when Sam squirmed away from him with an aborted laugh before grabbing his arm to spin him back around to wash his stomach and chest. Dean was thorough, but didn’t linger, though he noted Sam flushing and squirming away. 

Dean knelt down to wash up Sam’s legs, wrapping the cloth and just scrubbing up and down. “Give me your foot.” He demanded and then scrubbed between Sam’s toes and under his sole, smirking as Sam shrieked with laughter and tried to pull his foot away. When Dean was done with the left he tapped it then waited. “Come on, other one…” 

Sam giggled and shook his head, “no way, De,” he protested but Dean just yanked it up to more giggling to finish. “Come on dude, before the water gets cold.” He said as he finished. He grabbed the body wash to tip a tiny bit more on the cloth. “Alright, don’t scream or whatever,” he managed then finished by quickly washing Sam’s crotch and ass as Sam squawked and flushed red. “De!” 

“What? You want to just go around with a crusty ass smelling funky? Cause trust me, no one wants that,” Dean said briskly then reached for the shampoo. He was quick to scrub Sam’s hair, fingernails scritching his scalp and scrubbing the soap thoroughly through the lank strands. He tilted Sam’s head back to wash it out but did it a second time, making sure his hair would be nice and clean. “Alright conditioner,” he managed cheerfully and quickly dragged it through Sam’s hair. Kid needed a haircut. “Alright dude, I would leave it for the two minutes and whatever but the water’s getting cold,” he said as he scrubbed it out of Sam’s hair, reveling in the apple scent. He shut off the shower and grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Sam’s waist before grabbing a second to scrub his hair. Sam peered up at him, his arms crossing in front of his chest but that only made him miserable as he tried to figure out how to hide himself. 

“Woah, come back here, Squirt… I ain’t finished drying you off.” Dean insisted as he threw the towel over Sam’s head and briskly dried out his hair then raced it over his back and front, drying him quickly.

Sam kept staring up at him, eyes wide but Dean just walked out of the bathroom, ignoring his own sopping wet underwear to grab pajama pants and one of his own hoodies. “Deodorant dude,” he said, tossing Sam’s speed stick to him before offering out his hoodie. “You can wear mine while I wash yours.” He offered, getting a relieved smile from Sam as he quickly yanked it on. Boxers and pajama pants were thrown in his face as soon as it popped out of the hoodie and Dean winked. “Come out, after you’re dressed, don’t forget to brush and floss.” 

Dean went back out and quickly changed into his own pajamas. He was gonna have to figure out how to look up things. He just had to figure out who to ask. Someone had to know. Hell, they were in Chicago so like… there had to be someplace they could ask questions. He just had to figure out where that was. He set up the first aid kit and waited for Sam to join him. 

When he did, Dean’s heart melted at the sight of his little bro all swamped in his hoodie. “Come here, Squirt,” he beckoned as he patted the bed and dragged out the supplies he needed. He rolled Sam’s sleeves up and then pulled out some neosporin to dot on all the cuts. Sam just watched him as he did it, carefully putting down bandages over them and taping them down. “I don’t like the look of this one, it’s puffy… I’m gonna check it tomorrow too,” Dean informed Sam as he put a single bandage over that one cut and taped down the rest. 

Sam waited until he was done to throw himself at Dean for another tight hug. Dean felt his own eyes water a bit as he hugged Sam tight before pushing him back, “I’m serious though, Sam. You ever think of doing this again you come tell me,” he ordered firmly. “I can’t lose you, Sammy. You can’t do stupid shit like this. You come talk to me, understand?” 

Sam nodded once and bit his lip, eyes lowered, “yeah, De, I understand.”

“Good… well, enough chick-flick moments, let’s get the laundry in the washer and get some chips from the vending machine. Hey I think Jurassic Park is on at 8, how does beanies and weenies and dinosaurs sound?” He offered. Sam perked up and nodded in quick agreement. Dean ruffled his damp hair and then stood up from the bed before looking back to Sam, “we’ll figure it out, you and me… together, okay?” 

Sam stared up at him, big hazel eyes full of trust that Dean wasn’t sure he really deserved. “Yeah, De.”


End file.
